


The Rain's Stopped Falling

by sherlakur



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Madara leaves a daughter behind and Hashirama has to raise her, because that man is easily the gayest individual I have ever seen, let me be clear though... Madara wasn't in a relationship with the mother or had sex with her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-06-23 11:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19700539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlakur/pseuds/sherlakur
Summary: Killing Madara at the Valley of the End was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but it seems that the man also left more behind for him to deal with than he had initially expected.





	1. Chapter 1

It was just before midnight when Hashirama heard a knock on the front door of his house. 

He’d been lying in his room, staring at the ceiling and alternating between thinking of nothing at all and giving in to the flood of painful thoughts and feelings that were always creeping at the edge of his mind these days. It’s something he’s been doing a lot the last few months. Ever since the day he had to kill Madara...since he ran his sword through the heart of the only person he ever truly loved. 

But he climbed out of his bed and walked towards the door swiftly, already steeling himself for what was to come. If they woke him in the middle of the night (or not woke him, but nobody knew that he was suffering from insomnia, after all) it had to be due to a major emergency. 

Except when he opened the door, it wasn’t Tobirama or one of his advisors waiting for him. 

“Miyuki-san...?” He greeted the young Senju woman. If he was being completely honest, he felt lucky he’d even remembered her name at all. She was a rather inconspicuous member of the clan, not particularly talented as a shinobi or otherwise special in a way that made her stand out. 

“Hokage-sama, I apologize for the intrusion. I know it’s late, but- believe me when I say I had no other choice than to come to you at night like this...” Her tone was undecipherable. 

It was only now that he noticed she was holding a toddler against her chest. When had she gotten a child? He used to know about every new Senju that was born, but after he became Hokage and his responsibilities extended much further than his own clan, he had lost track of it eventually. 

“Is everything all right? Is something the matter with your child?” 

She hesitated. “I guess you could say so, yes. May I come in?” 

He showed her in, gesturing her to sit down opposite of him at the living room table. 

“She’s not sick, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue. It was far too late and he was far too tired to be an animated and accommodating conversational partner. 

But she was silent for such a long time that Hashirama started to get impatient, wanting to go back to bed, to be alone and curl up in a ball and not deal with anything or anyone until the morning when he had to get up and play his part of Hokage again. He was just about to prompt her to speak, when she lowered her eyes and spoke softly, to say the words that would turn his whole world upside down. 

“She's the daughter of Madara Uchiha.” 

These days Hashirama never knew whether he was feeling too much or too little. He was in a constant limbo between numb and overwhelmed with his pain, and somewhere along the road, he had forgotten how to tell them apart. That moment wasn’t any different. 

His first instinct told him that she had to be lying, that what she said was completely impossible. But somehow, something inside of him told him that she was telling the truth. He knew it with a certainty that he couldn’t quite understand either, but that child- was Madara's child. 

He had no idea how to even process that information though. All this time, the lifeline he had been clinging to was that it had never been personal, Madara leaving the village, leaving him, was never personal, it was about his beliefs, his anguish when it came to the safety of his clan, and his perceived destiny. It wasn’t about him, is what he'd been telling himself again and again and again and again. But if Madara had been cheating on him the whole time, that changed everything. Had he really been this wrong about their relationship? He'd thought that despite everything, regardless of how often they fought and how frustrated and bitter he had become towards the end, he had still respected and maybe even loved Hashirama. Had he really known his lover so little? He didn’t even know he liked women. His mind jumped back to a little more than two and a half years ago, when they had made love for the very first time, finally, shortly after the founding of the village. How Madara had put his head on his chest and quietly told him that Hashirama was his first and that he'd never felt any desire to be with anyone else. It was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen his friend up to that point and his heart had swollen to five times its size as he gently grasped his face and kissed him with all the fire and love he held inside of him. 

Suddenly, he wasn’t questioning whether he was feeling too much or too little at that moment anymore. He felt sick and light-headed, and he didn’t know whether she could see his turmoil on his face (which was not unlikely, considering how many times he'd been called an open book by people) or had intended to say the thing that followed anyway, but she quickly spoke up again just before he had to excuse himself and throw up in the bathroom. 

“We never had intercourse, it- that's not necessary to have a child.” 

They hadn't…? But then how… why… 

“I don’t understand.” 

She sighed. “He just came to me one day and asked me whether I would be willing to bear his child. He said that- that he knew he’d never marry a woman, but still had the strong desire to have a child. He didn’t force me, or try to intimidate me... he said it would be fine if I said no, he’d simply ask someone else. 

But in a strange way... I really sympathized with him, you know? Wanting a child is a very human thing after all, and he seemed extremely serious about it.” 

“So, you said yes.” 

“I did.” 

His thoughts were a convoluted mess. So Madara had not cheated on him, but he _had_ gone behind his back and asked a woman to carry his child. Part of him was relieved, but a different part of him felt deeply betrayed in a way that even finding out about an affair couldn’t make him feel. 

“I’m sorry. How old she now...?” 

“She just turned five months.” 

Subtracting the four months since Madara's death and the six months between that Madara's departure, that meant that she had been conceived about five months before he left. That was about the time that he had slowly noticed Madara changing, being preoccupied with something, getting more and more pensive and distant every passing day. But he’d had no idea that at that point he’d already been so far gone that he’d hide something so huge from him... 

“Why....” he started, but wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. “I don’t know what to say, to be quite honest with you. Why are you telling me this now? What is it that you need? We could give you financial support, if raising the child without his... support... isn’t possible for you, or-” 

She shook her head. “It isn’t that.” 

“What is it then?” 

She was quiet for another few moments. “I am going to leave Konoha.” 

“You’re... leaving Konoha?” Hashirama himself was surprised at how vehemently something inside of him protested at the notion. This was _Madara’s_ child, his very own flesh and blood, and just about the only tangible thing that was still left of the man. He’d only just found out about her, and the thought that she would be taken away from him immediately, away from Konoha, the place that he and Madara had created together... simply felt _wrong._

She nodded. “I’m going to live with the civilians somewhere in the Land of Fire. And...” She paused. “I want you to take her in.” 

“ _What?_ ” So that was the reason for her visit? She wanted him to take care of, no, adopt her daughter? “Why me?” 

She looked him in the eyes. “Because I know that that’s what he would have wanted. Why do you think he picked a Senju woman to be the mother of his child, instead of a fellow Uchiha? And not even a strong one at that. It wasn’t a logical decision by any means, in fact, I believe it was a purely sentimental one... I mean no disrespect, Hokage-sama, but the whole village was more than aware of the fact that your bond went far beyond friendship and comradery-” 

He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up her hand and cut him off. 

“-and I don’t know what happened to him eventually, but I do know that he once loved you. Every time I talked to him, any time he mentioned you... it’s like he turned into a completely different person.” A weak smile crept onto her face. “It’s not often you see love so clearly on somebody’s face, especially when that person is trying to hide it.” 

As much as he wanted to stop and just soak up her words about how deeply Madara seemed to care for him, he still was man enough to feel obligated to point out the obvious flaw in her logic. “It’s not just his child you’re talking about though! It’s yours just as much as it is his, there is no reason to give it away to honor the feelings of a dead man!” 

She shook her head and smiled again, but sadly this time. “It was never my child. At least, I never saw her that way.” She seemed to look for the right words for what she wanted to say next. 

“She’s going to have a very hard life. There are hardly any half-Uchihas to begin with, and they’re looked down upon by the clan. But she’s not only that, she’s a _Senju_ -Uchiha child... and you know better than anyone what that means, even in times of alleged peace. There are people who will hate her simply for what she is, and she herself won’t know where she belongs either. And that’s all assuming that it never comes out she’s the daughter of a traitor...” When she continued, there was an edge of desperation to her voice. “She’s going to need all the love and support in the world to help her through that, and I can’t _give_ her the love she’s going to need, and that she deserves.” 

But I know that you can. You have more love in your heart than any other man, and you loved her father even more than you love anyone else. So please, I am begging you, take care of her... because I know I can’t do it.” 

He was silent for almost a full minute before he replied. “You’ve really thought about this?” 

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since he left the village.” 

“I suppose you’re not giving me much of a choice then.” 

She looked down at her hands and said, “If you really don’t want her, I will give her to an orphanage. But I don’t think that’s what you want.” 

The idea of Madara’s daughter growing up somewhere, anonymously and away from him, poorly and without a parent or a family to give her love and attention, twisted his insides almost more than anything else had that night. “No...” 

“It’s settled then.” She nodded and got up out of her seat, walking around the table to gently put the toddler into his arms. She seemed to have woken up in the process, looking unhappy at first but cooing at Hashirama when she noticed his long strands of hair and grasped for it with her tiny hand. 

“I’ve made arrangements to leave the village in the early morning.” She turned away from him and started to walk towards the door, seemingly wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. But before she could open the door, she hesitated, and when she spoke, there was more emotion in her voice than there had been during their whole conversation. 

“She doesn’t like apple sauce, and she gets restless when she doesn’t take a nap in the early afternoon. She needs a lullaby to fall asleep at night and sleeps better with a bit of light. She adores cats but is afraid of dogs. She enjoys being outside, and flowers always make her happy. She... She’s a good kid.” 

Hashirama quickly turned towards her as he suddenly remembered something important he had somehow forgotten to ask. “What’s her name?” 

"I named her 'Tamiko'”. 

With that, she walked out, and Hashirama was left sitting in his chair and a child with brown hair and black eyes staring up at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tamiko means "child of the people" which I found fitting considering she's the daughter of the two clans that make up the foundation for the village. 
> 
> I'm positive I'll be able to update this pretty soon. Kudos and comments are always appreciated, they really mean the world!


	2. Chapter 2

„Please, sit down Rinako-san.“ 

The Uchiha woman in front of his desk quickly did so before speaking up in a slightly stiff manner. “I want to start off by saying what a great honor it is that you picked me out of all Jonin to be the sensei of your daughter, Hokage-sama. I will do my very best not to disappoint you.” 

He waved his hand at her as if to say she should relax a little. “I don’t doubt that at all. You are one of our best, after all.” _And more importantly, one of the most responsible and reliable as well. And an Uchiha who seems to have no problems with the Senju considering she’s friends with many of the Senju Jonin._

He then folded his hands and looked at her. “Well, there is actually a very specific reason why I wanted you to come here before you meet her team tomorrow,” he said and tried to put some authority into his voice for once. Which he'd never been very good at. Why was he even trying anymore? 

“Whatever your concern is, Hokage-sama, I sure we will be able to find a way to handle it.” She still sounded formal and stiff, albeit rather calm and composed compared to many shinobi who still get extremely nervous when they were sitting in front of the Hokage’s desk. Hashirama is always a little embarrassed at that, he never wanted anyone to feel like they’re being called to the principal’s office. Sure, he was the Hokage and arguably the strongest shinobi alive, but hadn’t everyone at that point heard that he was an almost painfully nice guy? 

He nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s not a bad thing per se, and perhaps I'm making too big of a deal out of this… but it's very important to me that you as her sensei... know a certain detail about my daughter Tamiko. A highly _confidential_ detail.” 

Her only reaction was a barely noticeable rise of her eyebrows. 

“I want you to understand though that I'm not telling you this because I want you to treat her any differently. I'm telling you this because I want her to be able to trust her sensei completely, and not be held back by secrets between the two of you. In fact, I'm explicitly asking you to _not_ treat her any differently because of the information I am about to give you.” 

“Of course not, Hokage-sama. I train all of my students equally hard, regardless of what you're about to tell me, or whose daughter she is.” She smiled a little at the last part, but Hashirama couldn’t help but wince. She clearly had no idea how close her joking comment hit to the truth, merely alluding to the fact that she was the Hokage's daughter, but to him it was a little too close for comfort. 

He was suddenly a lot more nervous than he had been before. He had tried to play it cool earlier, but he was pretty sure that it actually _was_ a pretty big deal. Not mention she would be the first non-family member he would ever reveal this to. 

At the beginning, he had considered also keeping Tamiko’s Uchiha heritage a secret and sparing her the extra attention and hostility until she awakened the Sharingan, but he ultimately decided against it. She would have to get acquainted with the Uchiha clan eventually anyway, to have someone to help her control the Sharingan alone, and it was better to introduce the clan to the idea of a Senju-Uchiha child slowly and from the start instead of surprising them when she was older. Not to mention the psychological effect it would have had on Tamiko herself, as he didn’t want her to feel disconnected from her other clan or feel like it’s something she needed to be ashamed of. And it had all worked out all right: the clan had warmed up to her well enough over the years, and she herself seems comfortable with her identity. 

Madara being her father, however, was a different matter entirely. There were barely any Uchihas sympathizing with Madara left in the first place, and they never openly talked about it. The general consensus seemed to be, among the Uchiha clan just like the rest of the village, that Madara had become paranoid about non-existent issues and ultimately ended up being a danger to the peace that their people had only just finally achieved. He would let it be Tamiko’s decision whether or not she wanted to make her real father known in the future, but for the moment it would not only unnecessary, but also dangerous. 

Which was why Tamiko’s teacher actually was only the third person he would tell about this, period - the first being Tobirama all those years ago, and the second being Tamiko herself once he decided she was old enough not to accidentally slip up and tell somebody about it who potentially didn’t have her best interests in mind. 

The latter had gone surprisingly smoothly. He was aware that Madara’s reputation in the village was bad and only seemed to get increasingly worse with time, his attack on Konoha being the only thing people still talked about while his earlier role in making peace and founding Konoha was more and more downplayed and forgotten about. That’s why he made sure to tell her the whole truth about Madara, and Madara and him, from the beginning. Again and again while she was growing up he told her about how they had met, about their shared dream, their fights, their eventual truce and return to friendship, their romance, and also Madara’s eventual downfall. 

So when he eventually sat her down at the age of ten, not long after she had awakened her Sharingan, and told her that Madara was her father, she had a much more distinguished and personal view on who Madara was than she would have gotten from the public alone. He actually got the feeling that part of her was _glad_ that Madara was her father. Whether it was because having an infamous traitor as a father was still better than not knowing who your father was at all, or whether he actually managed to influence her in a way that made her think that he used to be a good man once, he did not know. But he felt satisfied knowing that he’d done everything in his power to make the whole thing easier for her. 

The first person he had told who Tamiko’s father was, however, hadn’t been nearly as accepting of the fact as his own daughter was. 

* * *

“You can’t possibly be serious right now.” 

His younger brother stood in front of him, arms crossed and making a face for all the world like he’d just told him he was planning world domination. He’d come to his house to ask Hashirama, who virtually never got sick, why the hell he was taking the day off despite the fact that there was an important meeting with representatives of Kirigakure coming up. (It had, of course, been for the purpose of going shopping for the basic necessities for when you have a child living with you and making all sorts of other urgent arrangements that come with spontaneously adopting a child.) He had then listened to the whole story (which, admittedly, wasn’t a very long one) with stony silence until Hashirama had finished, and these were the first words of his after he’d just looked at him in shock and disbelief for a good minute. 

Hashirama mirrored his brother by crossing his arms as well. He’d known he’d have to fight Tobirama on this, and for once in his life, he wasn’t even remotely willing to back down from a fight with him. “Believe me, I am serious. And I know you’re going to disapprove of this, Tobirama, but there is nothing you could say that could change my mind. I’ve made my decision.” 

His younger brother got _really_ angry out of a sudden, seemingly having shaken off the initial shock, and started to shout at his face, “Disapprove? Disapproval doesn’t even begin to cover my opinion on this! That man stomped on everything you believed in, betrayed you, and attacked Konoha. He’s always been a madman, and yet you never stopped acting like he’s some kind of saint, looked at him like he hung the moon and forgave him absolutely anything he pulled. You never believed me when I warned you about him, never wanted to hear anything of it, because of your _ridiculous_ crush on him, and now, even after everything he’s done, you’re seriously telling me you want to raise his demon spawn, an Uchiha-” 

“That’s enough,” Hashirama proclaimed with a tone so uncharacteristically harsh that Tobirama stopped immediately, looking at him with undisguised surprise. 

Over the last months, he’d been thinking a lot about all the mistakes he’d made during the time before Madara left, and he’d come to the conclusion that the way he had handled Tobirama had certainly been one of the biggest of them all. Sure, he'd chastised him when he spoke badly of Madara or his clan, but there never had been any consequences. He spent many nights lying awake and imagining what it must have felt like for Madara to see Tobirama openly spew hate and prejudice against his clan and for Hashirama to react with nothing but a slightly put off, “Don’t talk like that, brother.” So he'd sworn himself that things would change… except so far, he hadn’t changed a thing. He had continued to let Tobirama get away with all of his talk that only had gone worse since then. Part of the reason was simply that he was lacking drive and motivation for anythingthese days, part of it was him being scared of damaging the most important relationship in his life after losing the other most important person so recently. But all of that would end right then, right there. Not only had the arrival of Tamiko set something in motion inside of him that told him the time for sulking was over, but he could also feel an immense protectiveness overcome himself already when he thought of the little bundle he had received the night before. 

“You have no right to speak to me like this. And if you ever say something like that about my daughter again, I promise you will never see her again.” 

Tobirama didn’t even blink. 

“You’re so blind in your hate against Madara and your prejudice against the Uchiha, you don’t even realize what you’re saying. She’s just a kid, Tobirama! Not a demon or a traitor or even a Shinobi! Just a kid who was born under unlucky circumstances and has no one left. 

I’m not ashamed to say that I loved Madara, and for that reason alone I never could have abandoned her when I was asked to take her. But that’s not the only reason I want to take her in. I was the person who was closest to Madara, and yet, I couldn’t stop this from happening, couldn’t stop him from turning his back to what we had built together. I know you think he was nothing but a crazy madman, but I know with every fiber of my being that that isn’t true. He was a deeply sensitive person, and he felt more strongly than anyone else I know. He had hopes and dreams for the future just like me, and it’s partially my fault that he couldn’t find it in himself to believe they’re possible anymore. 

I can’t undo the past, but I can damn well do better in the future. And I’m gonna start by giving his child the love and acceptance she deserves, and making sure she and all of her fellow Uchihas are treated equally and with respect in our village. I won’t let anything bad happen to her and I’m _never_ going to let another Madara happen.” He paused for a moment and made a step towards the younger man, looking at him with an intense, almost pleading look. “I love you with all my heart, brother, you know that. But if you don’t finally get rid of your unwarranted hatred and follow me in that endeavor, I won’t have any chance but to dismiss you as my advisor. The village is more important to me than anything else. Even the relationship with my brother.” He looked down. “Even the man that I was hopelessly in love with.“ 

Tobirama left the house without a word, and Hashirama spent another couple of night anxious and sleepless. He knew he’d done the right thing, but the thought that he might have just permanently pushed away his own brother was unbearable. 

In the end, he needn’t have worried. It took three agonizing days, but eventually Tobirama strode into his office with a mumbled apology, and a _real apology_ in the shape of an almost fully fleshed out integration plan meant to strengthen the ties between the individual clans and promote mutual understanding. Needless to say, Hashirama broke out in tears of relief right then and there and didn’t let his brother go from his bone-crushing hug for at least ten minutes regardless of how much he protested and begged him to have some dignity. 

* * *

These days, he wouldn’t be able to believe that Tobirama and Tamiko had had such a rocky start if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. While he wasn’t always able to show it as openly, Hashirama knew that Tobirama adored his niece, and would do absolutely anything for her. In fact, it had been him who had spent days and nights weighing their options on who should be her teacher and made the final decision together with Hashirama. He had almost felt a little bad about it and wondered whether it was an unfair advantage that she had over the other students, but eased his mind by reminding himself that she was quite the special case after all, and it wasn’t like being the daughter of the Hokage had a whole pile of unfair disadvantages too. 

But he was pretty confident that they had made the right choice with Rinako Uchiha. She was kind, understanding, she loved the village and she loved children. She wouldn’t denounce Tamiko for something that her father had done. 

Hopefully. 

He sighed, deciding that it was about time he got on with it. “As you are surely aware, my daughter is, at least partly, of the Uchiha clan just like yourself.” 

She nodded and looked at him expectantly. 

“Again, this is a piece of very sensitive information, and I’m sure I don’t need to get into graphic detail about what would happen should you decide to not to treat this with the utmost secrecy-” 

“You don’t need to worry about that, Hokage-sama. I would never disrespect you or your family in such a way.” 

“Good, good. Well, I suppose there’s no point in beating around the bush any longer then...” he said but didn’t continue for a long while. He bit his lip, clenched his jaw, until he finally sighed again and looked up into the kunoichi’s eyes. 

“Tamiko’s father... he wasn’t just an ordinary Uchiha. It was _Madara_ Uchiha.” 

It never ceased to surprise him how much power Madara’s name still held even to this day. There was something about him, something so raw and powerful and unconstrained that even more than a decade after his death people still flinched at a mere mention of his name. Rinako-san seemed appropriately shocked as well, but to her credit, she very clearly tried to hide it. “Madara... but... wasn’t he killed-” 

“Twelve years ago." It wasn’t difficult maths, it simply meant that she was conceived not long before he left Konoha. But something still seemed to sit wrong with her, as she frowned and looked like she was all but wrecking her mind about something. 

He gave her a small, encouraging smile and assured her, “It’s okay, you can ask. I don’t want there to be any open questions on your side. “ 

She glanced up and his earnest face seemed to convince her. “But... I mean... weren’t the two of you...?” As soon as she had spoken, she turned ever so slightly red and it was obvious she immediately wished she hadn’t asked the question. But she didn’t backpedal or apologize, she stood by her question and simply stared ahead awaiting his reaction, prepared to face the consequences should she have offended him. 

He raised both of his eyebrows, admittedly impressed despite himself. He’d had an idea that that was what might had been confusing her, as their relationship was almost as famous as Madara himself. People loved to gossip, and they always liked a tragic love story - especially when it involved individuals as high-profile as Madara and himself. Nevertheless, hardly anyone ever dared to address the topic in his presence, and he hadn't expected her to actually ask him about it so directly. Hashirama had to hand it to her, she certainly had guts. “We were. And there was no romance or passion involved in the conception of her. Madara wished to have a child and Tamiko's mother generously agreed to help out. After everything that had happened, though, she didn't want to raise Tamiko herself and thought I would be the most suitable person to take her, considering my connection with her father. Does that answer your question? ” 

She cleared her throat and quickly replied, “Yes, Hokage-sama. I understand.” 

As uncomfortable as the situation was, part of him was secretly relieved that she had asked the question. Even now, after all this time, he didn’t want anyone to think that their relationship hadn’t been serious or that Madara had cheated on him. Whether that was for his own sake or him still trying to protect Madara's honor even though everyone already despised him, he wasn’t sure. Probably a bit of both. 

“She hasn’t known for a very long time either, and sometimes it’s hard for her to deal with. Madara still has quite the... looming presence in Konoha. She wishes she could have met her famous father, but she’s also scared of what it means to be the daughter of a criminal. And it’s a lot of pressure to find out you’re not only the adopted daughter of the Hokage, but also the biological daughter of the only person who equaled him in strength, and who was arguably the strongest Uchiha who ever lived. 

I want you to take that pressure off of her and make her understand that she’s her own person and doesn’t owe anyone anything, do you understand that?” 

“I understand, Hokage-sama. And I really do appreciate your trust in me.” 

“I don’t know what your personal opinion of Madara is, but I really want to remind you again to just... see her as Tamiko, not as Madara Uchiha’s daughter. I’m not saying that she didn’t inherit certain traits of his, but I think I’m the person who knew him best and... I only see his _good_ sides in her, you know?” 

“I believe a person is only as good as bad as the world and people around them shapes them to be. And considering you’re the one who raised her, my only presumptions are that she must be at least somewhat of a warm and kind-hearted person.” 

Hashirama smiled and scratched his neck out of embarrassment. “Ahh, you're flattering me. But she’s indeed an extraordinarily good kid. I'd be surprised if she made you any trouble at all. 

Anyway, we both must return to our duties now. Thank you so much for your time, Rinako-san. And I hope you’ll have a great day tomorrow with the youngsters!” 

“Thank you, Hokage-sama. I'm certain that I will,” she said and raised from her seat, starting to leave. But just as Tamiko's mother did all those years ago, she paused by the door and turned back to him. “I’ve always wondered... what was he like?” 

Hashirama lowered his eyes and looked at his table in contemplation, though didn’t have to think about what to say for long, and when he spoke his voice was quiet, yet steadier than he himself would have expected. “He was a very good man, in his own way that not many understand. He loved his clan more than even its members were ever able to see. He was distrustful of most, just like I’m always too trusting... he was always conflicted about everything, and never satisfied with anything - always looking for greater things. He could be as harsh and cold as people sometimes make him out to be, but incredibly gentle and vulnerable at other times. He... ah, he was beautiful.” 

He could have been wrong, but he thought he could almost see something akin to pity on her face before she walked through the door and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot more was meant to happen in this chapter but it started to get long so I decided to keep it short instead.  
> I hope it didn't end up being too boring, I promise next chapter will finally feature an adorable Tamiko and show her interact with Hashirama <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find kids rather hard to write so this chapter was a challenge for me, but I hope you'll enjoy

“Tamiko, are you there?” he called up the stairs right after stepping through the door. Their house wasn’t a big one, definitely modest considering he was the Hokage, but it was more than big enough for just the two of them, and more importantly, it was home. 

Before he was even able to put his things down, he could hear feet stomping on the second floor, which was followed by a small girl jumping down the stairs to greet him. “Otousan! I didn’t know you would be home early today.” 

He smiled at his daughter, touched by her enthusiasm. He didn’t know whether she wasn’t old enough to think her father was uncool yet, or if it was simply her personality and his parenting style that caused the two of them to still be so close. Though he hoped, and honestly believed as well, that it was the latter. 

“It was just some unimportant paperwork for the rest of the day, a woodclone can handle it. But psst,” he bowed down and whispered to her conspiratorially, “don’t tell your uncle about it.” Tobirama would most likely figure it out anyway, seeing as he can recognize a woodclone easily as soon as he kneaded some form of chakra, but the aim of his comment had been to make her laugh and he succeeded in that, as she was quietly giggling into the high-neck collar of her Uchiha robe. 

“Your secret is safe with me.” 

“That’s my girl. Anyway, I was thinking I'd cook us something nice today and we celebrate, seeing as it's your big day tomorrow.” 

His daughter, however, looked doubtful at his suggestion. “If tomorrow is the big day, shouldn’t we celebrate tomorrow then?” 

He laughed. “Believe me, tomorrow night you'll be so tired you'll barely even be able to eat dinner before you pass out, let alone celebrate. It's a tradition that the leaders of the new Genin teams test their abilities and put them through all kinds of trials on their first day, and I doubt Rinako-san will go easy on you. So, we're gonna have to do it in advance.” 

“Hmm, we’ll see about that. But just to make sure, I suppose your plan isn’t so terrible,” she replied, her doubtful tone clearly meant in mostly a joking manner at this point. 

Hashirama fondly ruffled her hair at that. Or rather, he tried to, but somehow his fingers got stuck in several tangles at once. He really needed to see that she combed her hair more often – for it may not be as dark as Madara’s, but it certainly was just as unruly. He tried to untangle his fingers as gently as possible, which clearly wasn’t very gentle at all as she gave him an indignant look that was also rather close to the grumpy scowl he remembered of her father. And just as he did with his, he couldn’t help but find it rather adorable - but would never in a hundred years dare to say so out loud. “Sorry.” 

She sighed, and all of a sudden sat down on the stairs next to them. Hashirama was confused by her action, but only until she spoke up again and asked, “Hey Tochan?” with a small voice. Clearly, she had something on her mind and wanted to talk, so he sat down next to her and put a hand on her back. 

“Yes, my love?” 

She hesitated for a moment, then put her head on her father’s shoulder and asked, so quietly it was barely audible, “Do you think he would be proud of me?” 

Something deep inside of Hashirama’s chest ached at his daughter’s words so strongly he didn’t quite know how to handle it. He pulled her closer towards himself and told her, “I don’t just think so. Family always was the thing he cherished more than anything else in the whole world.” 

“It’s just…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. _It’s just, if family mattered_ _that much to_ _him, why did he leave me behind? Why wasn’t I more important? Why wasn’t I enough to make him stay?_

_Did he not love me at_ _all?_

“I know.” Those were questions he was only too familiar with, as he’d been asking himself variations of them for the last twelve years now. He couldn’t give her a real answer, because he was still looking for one himself, but he could at least tell her the explanation that he had strung together for himself and eventually enabled him to find something akin to closure. 

“I think that whatever Madara did was always meant to serve the greater purpose of protecting the people he cares about. He dreamed of peace, even when he left, but obviously he had his own ideas on how to reach that peace. But somewhere along the way he got lost, he went down a path that I could not follow and that led him into darkness. But that doesn’t mean that things I told you about him weren’t true, or at least had been true at some point.” 

She seemed to digest that answer for a while, and Hashirama reflected on it as well, wondering whether it was too complex for a 12-year-old to understand. Wondering if he really believed his own words in the first place. He was so deep in thought that he startled a little bit when she addressed him once again. 

“Do you ever regret killing him?” 

Hashirama sighed. Trust his daughter to ask all the hardest questions at once, on the day before her graduation no less, when he had meant for it a day of celebration. 

“I’m not sure if regret is the right word. I know that it’s what I had to do because otherwise a lot of innocent people would have suffered. But I do regret that I ever let it come so far. I feel like... like I could have done more to prevent this.” 

He had been worried, at the beginning, that after finding out about her true heritage Tamiko would blame him for Madara’s death and start to harbor resentment against him for killing her biological father. It was an insecurity of his for a long while, and only recently he had begun to understand that it had been a highly irrational fear of his. No matter how deep Tamiko’s desire to know her other father was, it didn’t run nearly as deep as her love and trust in the father she had known all her life. She never blamed him and he knew her question this time wasn’t posed in an accusing manner either, her tone speaking of pensiveness and curiosity rather than bitterness. 

Another few minutes went by in silence before Tamiko visibly relaxed and appeared to be ready to move on from the heavy part of their conversation. In fact, her expression was almost cheeky when she suddenly asked, “Hey, how strong was Madara when he was my age?” 

Hashirama couldn’t help but laugh a little at her question. His daughter putting too much pressure on herself because of her heritage was something he was constantly worried about, but at the moment Tamiko didn’t seem troubled or anxious at all. It was more a display of pure childish competitiveness, which was rather amusing to him seeing as she was the kind of kid who always tried to act as maturely as possible, but just like any child with that endeavor, failed at it consistently. 

“Actually, I didn’t know him yet when he was your age.”

“Really?? But you said you met him as a child! _I’m_ not a child anymore.” 

He was full-on laughing now, his loud, bellowing laugh that had Tobirama frown at him every time and made some of his subordinates discreetly cover their ears when they were nearby. 

“Of course not. You're a real shinobi now, after all.” He petted her hair, wise enough to only touch the surface this time without putting his fingers into the jungle of tangles, and she narrowed her eyes again, probably calling his bluff. In order to appease her, he quickly added, “I do know though he hadn’t awakened his Sharingan yet at that point.” 

She immediately went from mild discontentment to looking at him with wide eyes, clearly surprised that there was something she had already achieved faster than her famous father had. Though considering the circumstances necessary in order to awaken the Sharingan, Hashirama wasn’t sure whether you really could call it an achievement. Tamiko however seemed to be satisfied with his answer and with no questions left unanswered, she jumped up from the stairs they had been sitting on. 

“Come on Tochan! Let's go.” 

* * *

_Two weeks later_

Hashirama resisted the urge to burrow his head in his arms and let out a long-suffering sigh as Tobirama and Kagami finally finished their mission report after almost 30 minutes. The other members of his brother's team had already gone home, but the Uchiha had stayed behind because the photographic memory that came with his Sharingan allowed him to recall details that even Tobirama may have missed during their mission. It was a great asset, as any detail could be important, but half an hour of Tobirama and his student rattling down facts and details of the mission on him in a monotonous voice really felt like running a marathon for his poor brain. 

He wouldn’t have had any reservations to whine if it was only his brother, but he didn’t want to do so in front of Kagami. He was almost family with how fond both Tobirama and Tamiko – and, by extension, Hashirama as well – were of the boy. But there were certain things he still had to do the dignity not to do in front of him, and moaning about an overly long mission report was one of them. So he took a deep breath and, after short consideration, spoke up for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“Thank you. That was… very informative. I shall inform the ANBU immediately that we need to mount an investigation into the situation and-“ 

“An investigation? Brother, an investigation isn’t necessary and you can’t let the Stone get away with this again! Those shinobi weren’t missing nins, they clearly were sent here by their village.” 

“But the Tsuchikage-“ 

“The Tsuchikage is a liar, you should know that from past experience. He can’t be trusted, and we need to show them that-“ 

Tobirama suddenly stopped with his mouth still open, staring into the distance, and Hashirama frowned. It wasn’t like his brother to lose track in the middle of a discussion like that, his mind and his tongue always razor-sharp and ready to talk him into the ground. 

“What’s wrong, Tobirama? Did you sense something?” He was struck with a sudden sense of foreboding, and couldn’t help the note of concern in his voice. 

“I thought I did, but that's… not possible. And it's gone now, anyway. I must be more tired than I thought I was.” He shook his head as if he could make his brain overcome his sleep deprivation by sheer force of will alone. 

Hashirama wasn’t convinced at all, but he opted to trust his brother’s judgment and said, “You should go home and rest then.” 

Tobirama still looked a little shaken as he slowly nodded as well. “Yes... I think I will. Listen, this is not an immediate situation as we took care of the cells they sent for now. Just tell the ANBU and the guards that they should keep an eye out and we'll discuss the rest tomorrow morning, all right?” Hashirama nodded, and Tobirama sighed. “Maybe you should go home early too. This not only means a very stressful day for us tomorrow for which you'll need to be well-rested. If this ends in a diplomatic dispute it might mean some very stressful and busy _weeks_ for you, and you should enjoy some time with Tamiko while you still can.” 

Hashirama smiled at his brother's thoughtfulness. “You’re probably right. I shall go home too.” 

But the bad feeling that had overcome him earlier didn’t dissipate ever after he had parted from Kagami and his brother, and he noticed himself unconsciously speed up on his way home, suddenly in a hurry to see his daughter and make sure she was all right. 

As he approached his house, however, he immediately knew that something was very, _very_ wrong. 

He wasn’t a sensor like Tobirama, but he could still feel a presence in their house that wasn’t Tamiko's, a strong, overwhelming presence that almost-“ 

He pushed open the door, and in front of his well-worn sofa with the mismatching throw pillows stood a man that he had not seen in almost exactly twelve years. 

“Hashirama? Huh. I thought you'd be home later.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling a little bit down tonight so waking up to some comments from you guys would be incredibly lovely :') I already have the next chapter planned out in my head and hope I'll find the time to write it rather soon


	4. Chapter 4

_Then_

Hashirama sighed as he finally closed the door behind the last of his birthday guests. 

“You don’t seriously intend to put that painting up on the wall, do you?” 

“Huh?” He turned around to look at the Uchiha who was lounging on one of their armchairs, visibly more relaxed now that all of their guests had left. 

He had vehemently protested at Hashirama’s plans to celebrate his birthday at their house in the first place, and when he couldn’t persuade him otherwise, he made sure to let everyone know just how unamused he was by a horde of merry Senju partying in his living room. Not only had he arrived a few hours late, but when he did, he resolutely sat in a corner by himself and did not move from there for the rest of the night, glaring at the guests while petting their coal-black cat that was sitting on his lap. 

[The cat had been another thing Madara had initially protested at, both at Hashirama’s insistence that she reminded him of Madara and his determination to take the stray in, but somewhere along the line the little creature had wormed herself into Madara’s heart and he reluctantly admitted that he was rather fond of her, even letting her sit on his desk while he worked and sleep on his legs during the night. Hashirama acted like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him, which, frankly, was ridiculous.] 

He pointed at the oil painting that was leaning against the wall at the other end of the room. “That painting. You’re not seriously planning to put it up?” 

Hashirama made a scandalized face and yelped, “Of course I’ll put it up! I’m Touka took a lot of care picking it out for me and paid a lot of money for it.” 

“It’s also extremely, unbelievably so, insanely ugly.” 

“It’s a gift.” 

“So you do admit that it’s ugly?” Madara was enjoying this far too much. 

Hashirama looked at the painting with a distraught face, clearly agreeing internally but unwilling to say so out loud. “It’s... interesting.” 

The Uchiha snorted and got up from the armchair to move slowly in the direction of his lover, who was still standing by the door of the home the two clan leaders shared. 

“It’s my house too, you know. And I’m absolutely putting a veto on placing this abomination anywhere but the darkest corner of our basement” 

“We can’t do that! What if Touka asks me where we put it up or wants to see it the next time she comes over? It would break her heart.” He was full-on pouting now. 

“I should think you know your cousin better than that, she isn’t as fragile as that. Besides, you can tell her I’m the one who hated it so much I forbid you to put it up. Or better yet, tell her that I burned it down with a big fat katon goukakyuu. Maybe it’ll teach her to never inflict her bad taste on anyone else ever again.” 

“You’re really mean sometimes, did you know that?” He faked a stern voice, but the smile at the corner of his mouth betrayed his true feelings. 

“Mhmm, so you’ve told me. And yet here you are, still shacking up with me. One could almost think you like it.” 

“That’s not true at all. I like nice people. The nicer and kinder the better, in fa-” he trailed off as Madara crowded him against the door and slipped a hand into the opening of his yukata. “What are you doing?” 

“Making you shut up. Idiot Senju, driving me crazy all night while I could do nothing but sit there and wait until all the _other_ idiot Senjus pissed off.” 

Hashirama couldn’t help but grin, it was rare that Madara initiated any intimacy at all so he really had to be frustrated. “Is that your twisted way of telling me I look good today?” 

Madara’s answer came in the form of a soft murmur into his neck. “Unfortunately, you always do. God knows my life would be a lot easier if it weren't so.” 

It was the sort of comment that Hashirama would, much later on, tend to overanalyze in his head for days, wondering whether Madara had always viewed his own attraction and affection towards Hashirama as something that held him back and kept him from pursuing his own goals and aspirations. 

At that moment, however, his mind was far too busy shutting down as Madara gently scratched down his abdomen with his fingernails. 

“Ready to celebrate your birthday properly?” 

His partner could only groan and pull him in to kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him. 

* * *

_Now_

It didn’t even take Hashirama half a second to enter Sage Mode and bring forth the full might of his chakra in preparation for a fight. All of his instincts screamed at him to jump in front of his daughter, who was sitting on the couch with an uncertain expression on her face. But he managed to hold himself back as he knew it wasn’t the wisest course of action at that moment - any hasty movement and the enemy might react in an unpredictable way and hurt her before he’d ever be able to reach her. 

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?” he asked with an even, deadly voice. 

Except now that he was in Sage Mode, the man in front of him wasn’t a mere presence anymore. He could feel his chakra signature, even though he obviously made an effort to dampen it, and what he felt made the blood in his veins freeze immediately. It was no longer a mystery to him what Tobirama must have sensed earlier in his office, the man in his house probably using a small amount of chakra for whatever means he used to get here before he was able to hide it again from sensors that weren’t in immediate proximity. 

But just as Tobirama had said – it was completely impossible that this man really was the person his chakra signature made him out to be. It couldn’t be Genjutsu either, as Hashirama could at the very least always tell he was being manipulated, even when he used to fight the Uchiha clan’s most talented Genjutsu specialists and wasn’t in Sage Mode. He didn’t know that such a thing was possible, but somehow an enemy of his must have found a way to emulate Madara’s chakrai order to distract Hashirama and break his resolve in a fight against him. Because the third option was simply... preposterous. He had speared Madara on his own sword, cried over his limp body, carried him home, and buried him. It had unmistakably been Madara’s body, and there was no trace of chakra running through it, ruling out that it was a clone, a henge or an illusion. Madara was dead. 

But the man only hummed in a low voice and glanced at the wall to his left with an unimpressed face. “I saw you kept that horrendous painting for all these years. I thought I had hidden it away well enough, but apparently you found it and decided to put it up again. Sentimental fool.” 

Hashirama was struggling to breathe at that point, and he was pretty sure the knowledge that he had to protect Tamiko was the only thing that kept him from having a panic attack right then and there. That painting had been a constant source of good-natured squabble between the two of them, Hashirama putting it up only for Madara to put it down again, going back and forth for almost a year until the latter eventually hid it away for good. Hashirama had pretended to be mad at him for quite a while after that, assuming that he had taken the matter into his own hands and actually destroyed it. Only years later when he cleaned up the basement of their house did he find it hidden under a pile of old clan documents, and Tamiko found him there crying on the floor an hour later, the ugly painting clutched to his chest. 

But this stranger had no way of knowing about their little running joke. It couldn’t be, though... it was impossible, is what he kept telling himself over and over again in his mind. 

“What’s wrong, Hashirama? Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

There was mockery in his voice, but also a hint of teasing, and Hashirama wanted to scream at how familiar it was, how perfectly the man’s voice matched his memories. It wasn’t just his voice, though, just looking at the figure made his eyes burn and his heart ache in longing. He didn’t look exactly like he remembered him, his hair longer and with a few more lines on his face than all these years ago, but perhaps that was precisely what affected him so strongly. It wasn’t a mere imitation of the Madara from old times, it was unmistakably _him,_ but his appearance fit the age he would have today if he had never died. What he would have looked like had he stayed in Konoha, as Hashirama’s partner and Tamiko’s father. 

He finally found his voice, though it was weak and desperate when he spoke. “Stop this, right now. I won’t harm you if you stop this immediately and just tell me who you are already.” 

“I’m hurt. Did I grow so old you wouldn’t even recognize your oldest friend?” 

“Shut up! Stop pretending you’re him. You can't be. This is not real.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Hashirama. I know you can sense my chakra signature when you are in Sage Mode. I’m not a transformed enemy.” 

“No! You were dead, I killed you! I killed you and I buried you, more than twelve years ago.” 

Madara narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at that and made a step forward in his direction before saying in a voice that still remained calm and almost bored, “You did kill me, and I was indeed dead. But there are some secrets of the Sharingan that you have never even heard of.” 

“The Sharingan can’t bring back people back to life.” 

“Well, no, that’s not exactly what it does. But the specifics of how I did it don’t matter, the only thing that matters is that I’m still alive.” He took another step in his direction and Hashirama flinched back at the closeness, even though there still were about ten feet separating them. There suddenly was an intensity in the other man’s voice and expression that hadn’t been there before as he went on, “I’m alive, and I’m back in Konoha... back in _your village,_ Hashirama.” 

Any doubt that Hashirama still had about this being the real Madara disappeared as he heard his own cruel words repeated back at him, words he had spoken to Madara just a moment before what he had believed to be his death, words that he felt guilty about every day but had never spoken about to anyone. 

For years Hashirama had wanted nothing more than for this to happen, had prayed for a miracle, for the chance to talk to Madara just one more time, just one more conversation to help him understand what had happened and to give himself closure. When Tobirama had invented the Edo Tensei jutsu and immediately declared it a forbidden technique, he couldn’t sleep for a week, tortured by the temptation to bring back Madara only for a day for exactly that. If it hadn’t been for a gentle intervention by Tobirama, who had noticed his distressed reaction to this particular technique, he wasn’t sure if he would have had the strength to resist. 

But now that his wish had come true and Madara was standing in front of him, he didn’t even know _what_ to feel. There were tears forming at the corner of his eyes and a whole assortment of different emotions crawling up his throat. The guilt that he was so used to by this point, overwhelming joy and relief at finding out Madara was alive, but an equal amount of concern and, surprisingly, a sizeable amount of anger at the other man as well, who had let Hashirama believe he killed his most precious person for all these years. 

“If you really are Madara, what do you want?” he asked, his defensive stance not budging an inch. He had the distinct feeling that Madara hadn’t come here after more than a decade for a friendly chat and reconciliation, and something told him that it had to something with Tamiko. “I thought you’d be home later,” he had said, as if Hashirama coming home early was crossing his plans. 

His suspicions were to be confirmed only a moment a later when Madara said, “I’m afraid that’s between me and my daughter.” 

“ _Your_ daughter?” His anger was definitely winning over now, twisting inside of him ugly and burning hot. 

“Yes, mydaughter. Her control of the Sharingan at such a young age truly is remarkable, especially considering only one of her parents was an Uchiha. I suspect that she will be tremendously useful to me.” 

Hashirama had always known, of course, that Madara could be cold and calculating at times, and that he had only become increasingly ruthless in the course of his downfall. But he was speechless at the implications of what he had just heard. 

“So that was your plan all along? To have other people carry out and raise your child only so you could come and get her once she’s old enough to be _useful_ to you?” he spat. 

“Not at all. When I decided to have her leaving the village was not something I was even considering yet, at least not seriously. But now I do have to say that it was an unintended stroke of genius on my part.” 

Everything hurt. He already knew where this was going to end and the thought made his heart feel so heavy he figured it would crush his organs any second now. He never would have wished for Madara to come back if it meant that he would only have to fight him again. The universe really must be cruel to make him relive the worst day of his life no longer just in his dreams, but in reality too. 

“You’ve gone mad, Madara. Tamiko isn’t a tool for you to use to your liking. I’m the one who raised her and she’s my daughter too. You can’t have her. Over my dead body.” 

Madara smiled and Hashirama looked into the eyes of the man he once loved as they turned a deep shade of crimson. 

“That can be arranged.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, all I do is keep hurting Hashirama even though he's one of my favorite characters... when did become that kind of fanfic author??  
> Anyway, please let me know what you thought of this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Madara saw when he came to was Hashirama. Which was odd, he thought in his hazy state of half-wakefulness, because usually it was the other way around – he saw Hashirama in his dreams, and when he woke up he was gone, replaced by the dark bleak gray of rocks. 

Though on second look, the surroundings weren’t all too different where he was now. Gray walls, dim light and moldy smell slowly filtered into his senses as he gained a little more consciousness. And then- bars to his left, and chains around his wrists and ankles. Ah. He was in Konoha's dungeon. 

He should have known that he couldn't win against Hashirama, just as he never had been able to win against him before. His rival had only gotten stronger over the years, by learning a variety of new jutsus that the different clans had brought to Konoha, but also through plenty of fighting practice in the war that he had been so desperate to prevent, but refused to idly watch unfold from his office while the people of his village risked their life in battle. Madara, on the other hand, was blind on one eye and had barely fought anyone at all since his battle against Hashirama, at least not any meaningful opponents. He needed to stay in hiding in order to work on his plans and he knew that if Hashirama even so much as heard a rumor that he was still alive, he would send a whole platoon of ANBU to search for him. So on the rare occasions that he was among people in the first place, he avoided attracting any attention. 

In the end, it had still been a hard battle. Hashirama had immediately redirected their fight to outside of Konoha and there they fought as bitterly as ever until finally, Madara’s chakra was depleted and he sank to the ground. It was the last thing he remembered, that and the fact that he decided not to use Izanagi a second time. Even if he'd been able to scrape together enough chakra in order to use it correctly, Hashirama and Tobirama surely would not have made the same mistake of not disposing of his corpse again. Besides, he would have ended up fully blind and likely unable to live on his own and further work on fulfilling his dream anyway, not to mention that he had no idea whether a blind Sharingan was even able to awaken the Rinnegan anyway. 

Hashirama had fought with a vigor that he had never seen before, even in their last fight, but he wasn’t quite certain why. He reckoned it was either because he was so emotionally affected by his sudden reappearance or, as he suspected to be the actual reason, because he fought to protect his daughter. Retrospectively, he wasn’t surprised. Hashirama had always loved strongly and deeply, almost as deeply as an Uchiha, and a parent's protectiveness was a scary thing. He just hadn’t initially assumed that Hashirama _had_ that kind of love for Madara's child. After all, Madara had betrayed everything the two of them had achieved together and the Senju had any reason in the world to hate him. When he heard that Hashirama had adopted his child, he had assumed that it had happened purely out of his sense of duty and that Hashirama wouldn’t truly be able to love or accept her as his own. What an utter fool he had been. 

Hashirama watched him closely as he scrambled up from his sleeping position and for a few moments, the two of them just looked at each other. Despite the troubled look on his face and the fact that his former lover couldn’t look any more out of place in this gloomy cell, Madara had to admit that he was still as unfairly handsome as ever. Maybe even more so – maturity suited him, he thought. Not that either of them could be considered old, closing in on 40, at least by any standard outside the life of a shinobi. But it had been a long time since he had the opportunity to simply _look_ at the man like this. 

His voice was rough when he eventually spoke, “You don’t honestly think that these chains will hold me?” 

“They will, as long as your chakra is suppressed by Mito-sama's seal.” 

Madara’s eyes widened and he immediately attempted to knead chakra and activate the Sharingan. Nothing. He could feel the chakra thrumming under his skin, but it was as if there was an invisible wall that kept him from accessing it, from grabbing it and shaping it with his mind as usual. 

“You bastard...” he whispered, followed after a few seconds by a sharp, bitter laugh. 

“You’d already won, Hashirama. What's the point in this? Does my humiliation give you pleasure? Why didn’t you just kill me once and for all?” 

“Because,” Hashirama’s voice was even but intent, and he seemed to be looking for the right words before he continued, “You _didn't_ lose, you never did. And I wish that you could just- You haven’t been in Konoha in a long time, but if only you could see that... things are _better_ now, Madara. Clan relations are so much stronger than they were in the beginning, the Uchiha are accepted by everyone, and everyone works together as true _comrades,_ just like we always dreamed of…” 

“And the war?” He immediately knew he had hit a sore spot when Hashirama clenched his jaw and cast his eyes down at the floor. 

“Thousands died, and not a day goes by where I don’t wish things had gone differently.” He looked back up again. “But it was one war, three years in 14 instead of _constant_ war how it used to be, and there were no children on the battlefield. I know it isn’t perfect yet, but things have become so much better already, and if we stay patient and keep working hard towards peace, we will eventually be able to make it a permanent state and unify all the lands like we unified the shinobi of the fire country...” 

Madara laughed again, but it was a softer sound this time, less bitterness to it and more genuine amusement, and it was accompanied with a shake of his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe his old friend. “So naïve… you've always been so naïve. It only speaks for my argument that the nature of people will never truly change. You never changed, and neither will the people looking for conflict. It’s pointless to even try.” 

“What do you suggest then? To just give up on peace all together?” It wasn’t an agreement with what Madara had said, and he knew that Madara was aware of that, but an acknowledgment of the points he made nonetheless. 

“No.” He leaned his head back on the damp wall and closed his eyes. He only just woke up but he felt tired already. It was always the same with Hashirama, always the same. They never really did understand each other, not completely, not when it came to the important things. They came close for a while before everything started to go downhill and trying to make Hashirama see his points became more and more difficult and exhausting, a chore that eventually didn’t seem worth it anymore. So he gave up on it, and he felt strongly affirmed in his decision by the way Hashirama frowned at him at that very moment. 

“What is it then? What is your solution? Your dream that you keep talking about?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” His tiredness was creeping into his voice now, and all he wanted was for Hashirama to leave him alone. 

“So you keep saying.” After a moment of hesitation, his former lover crouched down and gently grasped Madara’s wrist. “Madara, I...” 

The touch sent a jolt of electricity through his whole body. Hashirama’s hand was just as warm as he remembered it, the skin much softer than it had any right to be, and with the man this close he could smell him - his wonderful, flowery yet masculine smell, and just for a second, he was 16 years old again lying in the grass next to an idiot with a bowl cut. He was 24, having his first kiss on the ledge that was overlooking their newly formed village. He was 27, shedding a single tear as he kissed the man’s sleeping face on the night he finally found the determination to leave for good. 

He was 39, and he abruptly tore his arm out of the tender grip that was searing his skin. 

“Get the hell out of my cell, Senju. The least you can do after locking me up in this hellhole is to leave me in peace.” 

He consciously did not look at Hashirama’s face as he slowly stood back up, fully aware he wouldn’t be able to face the sadness that was undoubtedly visible on the man’s face. 

“Right. I'll be back tomorrow and tell you what the council has decided regarding your case. And… I'll bring Tamiko with me too.” 

The door squeaked loudly as he made his way out and left nothing but silence in his wake. Madara was once again on his own, and it should be feeling familiar considering that’s how he spent the entire last decade, it should be feeling comforting. He wondered why it was then, that he truly felt alone for the first time in forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was on the short side and not a lot happened but it was still important, I think, and I really enjoyed writing from Madara's point of view.


End file.
